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Short Order

 I took my girlfriend to your last poetry reading,
she said.
yes, yes? I asked.
she's young and pretty, she said.
and? I asked.
she hated your guts.
then she stretched out on the couch and pulled off her boots.
I don't have very good legs, she said.
all right, I thought, I don't have very good poetry; she doesn't have very good legs.
scramble two.

Poem by Charles Bukowski
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